The Adventures of the Underfunded Six
by Smego Baggins
Summary: Just the adventures of The Underfunded Six. Most of the stories are based around Darien and all are either disturbing or funny as hell or both. So read and see what they get up when the show isn't being filmed. LAST CHAPTER! Please read I'm desperate!
1. The Birthday Boy

Author: Iz  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the whole 'Birthday Boy' fic an Australian radio station does except I just made it  
  
I-man style.  
  
A/N: I thought I can just imagine Darien doing something of these things (within reason)... you know getting back at people. Anyway hope you enjoy it and it makes you laugh.  
  
Rated: M for swearing.  
  
  
  
The Birthday Boy  
  
  
  
Narrator: Darien was an ordinary person. Just like everyone else.  
  
Hobbes: Fawkes, get out of bed you punk ass slob.  
  
Darien: Piss off!  
  
Hobbes: But I'll. . .  
  
Darien: Cough --cough -- cough-- cough --Hmm!  
  
Hobbes: Oh Ok.  
  
Narrator: But this was no ordinary day.  
  
Claire: Darien can you walk Pavlov, please?  
  
Darien: Get stuffed!  
  
Claire: Darien I. . .  
  
Darien: Cough --cough -- cough-- cough Hmm!  
  
Claire: Oh all right . . . jeez.  
  
Narrator: Darien could do whatever he wanted! And get away with it!  
  
The Official: Can you do a case for me, Darien?  
  
Darien: Blow it out of your ass, Charlie!  
  
The Official: I beg your pardon?  
  
Darien: Cough --cough -- cough-- cough Hmm!  
  
The Official: Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot.  
  
Narrator: Cause Darien is . . . The Birthday Boy!!!  
  
*Sounds of a small party going on as Darien's friends picks a film*  
  
Bobby: Well, I don't know...  
  
Alex: Pick something!  
  
Claire: OH! Fantastic Beatlejuice that's my favourite film let's all watch that!  
  
Everyone: YEAH!  
  
Darien: Mmmm, I don't think so. Let's watch Baseball.  
  
Alex: No way your out numbered.  
  
Everyone: YEAH!  
  
Darien: Cough --cough -- cough-- cough Hmm! Mmmm. . . Birthday Boy.  
  
Alex: What?  
  
Darien: You heard me . . . Birthday Boy.  
  
Alex: Did he say . . . Birthday Boy?  
  
Claire: 'Fraid so.  
  
Bobby: DAMN! He's got us over a barrel!  
  
Claire: But your teams not even playing!  
  
Darien: That's true.  
  
Bobby: You don't even like Baseball.  
  
Darien: True again.  
  
Claire: You don't even wanna watch the game do you?  
  
Darien: Mmmm . . . not particularly.  
  
Bobby: But you want to watch this one . . . don't you?  
  
Alex: But I hate Baseball!  
  
Darien: Ummm . . . Birthday Boy.  
  
Pause.  
  
Claire: Give him the remote.  
  
Darien: And the chair too, toots. Chop-chop.  
  
Alex: Hay! Why don't you go. . . !  
  
Darien: Cough --cough -- cough-- cough Hmm. Birthday Boy! *Slow evil laugh.*  
  
Alex: God I hate this time of year.  
  
Claire: I know.  
  
Narrator: They say that absolute power corrupts absolutely and there's no more absolute power than that bestowed on an ordinary shmo on his one special day.  
  
*Disco music in the background*  
  
Eberts: HAY!!! Who took a dump on the coffee table?  
  
Darien: Ar that was me!  
  
Eberts: Well, let me tell you something pal!  
  
Eberts Friend: Cough --cough -- cough-- cough Hmm.  
  
Eberts: WHAT?  
  
Eberts Friend: Ar he's the Birthday Boy.  
  
Eberts: Aw I see . . . Aw well congratulations it's fine piece of work.  
  
Darien: That's nothing. Wait until you see what I left in your fish tank.  
  
Eberts: What? Aw you filthy. . .  
  
Darien: Mmmm . . . Birthday BOY!!!  
  
Eberts: Pardon me, go about your business  
  
Darien: Thankyou. Now if you've got some reading material I might try and park one on the sofa.  
  
Eberts: But you can't.  
  
Darien: Cough --cough -- cough-- cough Hmm!  
  
Eberts: Uhh why not after all you ARE the Birthday Boy. *Evil Laughter*  
  
Narrator: He'll kick your dog!  
  
*Pavlov yelping.*  
  
Darien: Birthday Boy!  
  
Narrator: He'll steal your Parking spot!  
  
*Honking in background.*  
  
Darien: Uh Birthday Boy!  
  
Narrator: He'll bot your fags!  
  
*Sound of smokes being put out.*  
  
Darien: Birthday Boy!  
  
Narrator: He'll open your Mail!  
  
*Paper being ripped open*  
  
Darien: Birthday Boy.  
  
Narrator: He'll make long distance calls on your phone to people he doesn't even know!  
  
*On the other end of the receiver of the call.*  
  
Darien: I'm the Birthday Boy.  
  
Narrator: And you'll cop it sweet cause he is . . .THE BIRTHDAY BOY!!!!!  
  
Narrator: Hip-hip . . . hoary *Laughter*  
  
*Woman crying*  
  
Police Sergeant: All right, all right what happened here, then?  
  
Woman: It was that MAN!!!  
  
Darien: Hello!  
  
Woman: He burst into the restaurant with a .44 cal. Derringer and MURDED three people in cold blood!  
  
Police argent: Is that true?  
  
Darien: Yes it is.  
  
Police Scargent: Well, it's best you come down the station then.  
  
Darien: Mmmm I don't think so.  
  
Police Sargent: WHY NOT!!!  
  
Police Officer: Ar Sarg? He's the Birthday Boy.  
  
Police Sargent: Well, why didn't you say so? Here take my gun!  
  
Darien: Thanks!  
  
*sounds of the gun clicking and being fired*  
  
Police Sergeant: AWW! You copped me a beauty, good job Birthday Boy!  
  
Darien: Evil laughter.  
  
  
  
Hope you liked it . . . look out for more adventures of the underfunded six By Iz . . . coming soon (LoL) to a computer screen near you.  
  
Rember R&R.  
  
Iz 


	2. Ambassador For The Arts

Ambassador For The Arts  
  
Author: Iz  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the whole 'Ambassador For The Arts' fic an Australian radio station does except I just made it I-man style.  
  
A/N: I thought I can just imagine Darien doing something of these things (within reason)... you know getting back at people. Anyway hope you enjoy it and it makes you laugh.  
  
I've decided to call this small series "Adventures of the Underfuned Six" if anyone has a better idea let me know and I'll dedicate the next one to you.  
  
I must be desperate for reviews cause I'm begging for them.  
  
~*~  
  
Darien: Well, I've never considered myself an Ambassador for the arts but I rather enjoyed myself at the opera last night.  
  
Hobbes: You went to the opera?  
  
Darien: Well, as I remember it quiet clearly. . .  
  
*Flashback Chimes*  
  
*All through this a guy is singing the opera*  
  
Snoring coming from Darien.  
  
The snoring gets louder and louder until . . .  
  
Man 1: Excuse me? ::Taps Darien::  
  
Darien: What? What? Oh sorry ::laughs embarrassedly:: There you go. ::yawns::  
  
Goes back to sleep and snores louder and mumbles to himself quietly. Until . . .  
  
Darien: No! NO! Their in the Gymnasium!  
  
Woman: Oh, quiet!  
  
Darien: ::Wakes:: Oh, sorry! *Pauses* Oh yes their good, very good, aren't they? Good indeed ::smacks lips::  
  
Falls asleep again, snores then passes wind.  
  
Man 1: Do you mind?  
  
Darien: Who? Who? No, I put them on your desk last night! ::Wakes:: oh, oh, sorry.  
  
Man 1: Be quiet! Or I'll call the manager!  
  
Darien: Ok, Ok sorry, sorry. WHOA! Who Beefed? That is EVIL! THAT is the work of the DEVIL!  
  
::Everyone fails to notice that his eyes are red::  
  
Man 1: Shut up!  
  
Darien: Who are you?  
  
Man 1: Shhh!  
  
Darien: You wanna fight? Huh? You wanna fight? Go on buddy, give it your best shot!  
  
Man 1: Will you sit down and be quiet and let me enjoy the show!  
  
Chicken noises come as Darien is challenging the man to fight.  
  
Man 1: For GOD sake!  
  
Darien: Sorry, sorry!  
  
*Sound of Macdonald's drink being sucked dry*  
  
Random audience member 1: Shut up, Dickhead!  
  
Darien: Aw, hay! Language! There are chicks present! Jeez, your ruining it for everyone!  
  
Cell phone goes off.  
  
Darien: Aw whose is THAT!  
  
Man 2: It's yours.  
  
Darien: Aw. Hello? *Pause* Dave! How are you? *Pause* What? OH your NOT! You are a shocker! Have they got big knockers? ::Laughs:: Well, put twenty down her underpants for me! *Pause* I said: Put twenty down her underpants for me!  
  
Woman: Shut UP!  
  
Darien: What? Oh I'm at the opera with a bunch of giant nobs.  
  
Man: That's it. I want to speak to the manager.  
  
Darien: Hang on. (To the guy singing) HAY BUDDY DO YOU MIND? I'M ON THE PHONE!!! I'll call you back Dave.  
  
Audience start clapping as the singing stops.  
  
Darien: Aw great! Now you made me miss the end. Hay where's the big fat guy wearing the hat with horns! OH LOOK! He's taking a bow! HAY! Let's see you touch your toes you fat barsted! LOOK! Now their giving him flowers. What a POOF! Opera bloke's a poofter! *Clapping tesingly* Opera bloke's a poofter! *Clapping tesingly*  
  
*Flashback Chimes*  
  
Sound of the applause at the opera.  
  
Darien: Oh no. I'm still at the opera. Oh the flashback card doesn't seem to be working. Come on!  
  
*Flashback Chimes*  
  
Sound of the applause at the opera.  
  
Darien: Damn stuck! I'll have to give it a bit more chock. Here we go!  
  
*Flashback Chimes*  
  
Sound of the applause at the opera.  
  
Darien: Aw, crap. Now I'm stuck at the stupid flashack opera bit. Hay has anyone got any jumper leads?  
  
A/N: Yeah I know it was crap. But it was funny when I started writing it so give me a break. Anyway I'll probably be back with one that's worse. But you've got admit seeing Darien at the opera would be funny as hell.  
  
The next one is called: Farewell Sweet Princess, it's one for the Hobbes fans out there.  
  
Remember R&R.  
  
Iz 


	3. Farewell Sweet Princess

Farewell Sweet Princess  
  
FINALLY fanfition.nets running again! Took 'em long enough didn't it?  
  
Well I thought it was funny when I first thought of this little series and hopefully no one takes this in a bad way.  
  
Dedication: For all you Hobbes fans out there!  
  
Reader: Alright everyone, I have here in my right hand the last Will & Testament of the late Diana, Princess of Wales. And the Will reads as follows.  
  
Hobbes: Ar, hang on a sec, partner. What's the date on that Will?  
  
Reader: The date on the Will sir is June '93.  
  
Hobbes: Well, you better chuck it in the bin then bud. Cause I've got one here dated . . . JULY '93.  
  
Reader: WHAT! Oh, oh I see. May I have the new Will please?  
  
Hobbes: Sure, partner. Swap ya. ::Laughing as he says this:: You won't be needing that anymore. ::Folds paper and pockets it:: Have a crack at this one here.  
  
Reader: I have here in my right hand the NEW last Will & Testament of the late Diana, Princess of Wales. And the Will reads as follows.  
  
Unfolds the paper and reads.  
  
Reader: I, Diana Spancer, do hereby declare that all of my worldly goods be given to Robert A. Hobbes.  
  
Audience make shocked sounds.  
  
Hobbes: Gee, we were close but . . . who'd thought.  
  
Reader: I regard Bobby as a devilish stud-muffin.  
  
Bobby: HERE!! HERE!!  
  
Reader: Who has been a good friend to me over the many years that I have known him and I will always cherish the nights we spent together lying under the stars in our Jim-Jams giving each other tummy rubs.  
  
Bobby: ::crying:: Those . . . were the most . . . beautiful . . . nights in my life.  
  
Reader: Um . . . this Will will remain legal as long as Bobby agrees to spend the entire 52 million on Doughnuts, alcohol, top of the range tracky dacks and a cavalcade of busty strippers.  
  
Bobby: ::crying:: WHHHHHHHHY? WHY? It just isn't fair!  
  
Reader: And Bobby must not give away any of the money to any of his family or friends especially not to Claire, Alex or that weasel Darien.  
  
Bobby: Oh and I really wanted to give it away to. Gee, thanks Di, whatever happened to sharing?  
  
Reader: I further request that Bobby turn Kensington Palace into a throbbing Gym Palace populated by newbar wenches eager to please his every whim.  
  
Bobby: Well, I spose not to otherwise would be the dishonour her memory. ::Cries::  
  
Reader: It is also my solemn wish that the full amount of 52 million be stuffed down the front of Bobby's pants by Claudia Shiffer, thus completing the bequest.  
  
Bobby: OH GOD!! That probably means that she's gonna have to touch my coolies! ::Cries::  
  
Reader: This concludes my last Will & Testament.  
  
Bobby stopes crying.  
  
Bobby: Uh uh champ. I think there's a extra bit on the back.  
  
The reader checks and sure enough there is.  
  
Bobby goes back to crying.  
  
Reader: Oh, yes, there is. Until the money is paid I would approached it if somebody here today could slim Bobby a couple of hundred bucks to tie him over until the weekend. Ta, Di  
  
Bobby: ::Crying:: Please, say it's not true! ::Calmly:: Thanks bud. 


	4. Charlie’s Lookin Good

Charlie's Lookin Good  
  
OMG! I'm actually updating a stroy!!!  
  
::Everyone faints::  
  
No Wake up. I NEED YOUR REVIEWS!!! Even if they are flaimers, then it let's me know I'm not waisting my time.  
  
~*~  
  
Charlie Narrating: HI. Charlie Borden here and this November I'll be celebrating my 59th year in the Agency Industry. Which is a bit weird because well, I'm only 58. Still, that should tell you how much I love this business. Mind you, it's becoming a young mans game and, like many of my contemporise, it's no secret I've had a little work done . . . if you know what I mean.  
  
Doorbell sounds.  
  
Charlie Narrating: Every morning at precisely 6:15 respected plastic surgeon to the Bosses: Dr Claire Keeply droops by to perform a few simple adjustments to yours truly.  
  
(Door opens.)  
  
Claire: All right Chuk, drop your pants.  
  
Charlie: Sure!  
  
Charlie Narrating: This morning, Dr Keeply has decided to give me a buttock- lift. A simple procedure that she performs on illusionist, David Copperfield before every public appearance.  
  
Claire: Ok, Chuck, hold still, here we go.  
  
(Sounds of a car jack being cranked.)  
  
Claire: All right, Chuck. That's what I call a Maria Cerry. Happy?  
  
Charlie: Hmmmm, I am going on TV this morning doctor.  
  
Claire: Ok, I'll crank you up to Heather Locklier.  
  
(Sounds of a car jack being cranked.)  
  
Claire: There. Now, no spicy food before midday or we could have an avalanche on our hands.  
  
Charlie Narrating: Next, Dr Keeply goes to town on the face. Today she says she wants to take me somewhere beyond Lauren Bucall.  
  
(Sounds of stretching of some substance and cranking of a car jack (gotta love that car jack).)  
  
Claire: Now Chuck, remember if one of these straps comes lose we're in big trouble.  
  
Charlie: I'll keep that in mind.  
  
Charlie Narrating: Next, a quick facial peal.  
  
(Sound of a wax peal being ripped off.)  
  
Charlie: ARRRHHHHHHHH!  
  
Charlie Narrating: A bit of work on my hair. Not that I need any.  
  
(Sound of boiling water.)  
  
Charlie: Are you sure we need the frostageing?  
  
Charlie Narrating: A corsage Liposuction.  
  
(Sound of bubbly substance being sucked up a long tube.)  
  
Charlie: ::laughing:: Hay, hay! That tickles. . . A bit lower.  
  
Claire: It needs more power chuck.  
  
Charlie Narrating: And of course the ozo fashionable, giant, bee stung lips.  
  
Claire: Right, Chuck. Do you want the cheap or the expansive?  
  
Charlie: Ar, what's the cheap?  
  
Claire: Right. Bobby! He's dicing you pay to half again!  
  
Bobby: You BARSTED!!  
  
(Punches Charlie.)  
  
Charlie: OW!!! What did you do that for?  
  
Claire: Don't you like it?  
  
Charlie: Ar, let's go to the top shelf, shall we?  
  
Claire: Bobby! Bring in the Belgium pump will ya.  
  
Charlie Narrating: And so by 7:00 I'm ready to face the world.  
  
(Sounds of a flubberly subtance while he talks.)  
  
Charlie: Dr Keeply? Are you sure these lips are stable?  
  
Claire: Just don't go near anyone with a lit cigarette  
  
Charlie: I'm not sure if I'd be able to get them out of the front door!  
  
Claire: That's how all the big names are wearing them, Chuck.  
  
Charlie: If you say so.  
  
Claire: Oh and be very careful not to sneeze.  
  
(Charlie sneezes and sounds of an explosion then of liquid spraying everywhere.)  
  
Charlie: Whoops!  
  
Claire: Bobby bring in some gaffer  
  
Please? R&R? I'll give you another Chapter? 


	5. In Flight Entertainment

In Flight Entertainment  
  
A/N: I would like to thank everyone who's reviewd and am thankful that I have wasted your life by taking a few minutes of it. Thank you.  
  
Now Read on and Review!!!!!!!  
  
Claire to The Official: Darien turned an international flight into an obsenienty filled hell for other passengers and crew. It was a performance that apparently had Australian Test Cricketers* on the flight blushing with embarrassment.  
  
Captain: Hello San-Diego this is Cafe Pacific flight CX171. We are approximately two hours out of Hong Kong . . .  
  
(Our hero is drunk so this is not his normal behaviour, he was in Hong Kong for tests to get the good ol' gland out)  
  
Darien: Hay what the f**k is going on up here?  
  
Captain: Who are you?  
  
Darien: Who the f**k are you? It didn't say f**king 'engaged' on the door. I wanna take a piss.  
  
Captain: Sir, I'm sorry but your not actually permitted up here without authorisation.  
  
Darien: ::points finger:: There's my f**king authorisation.  
  
Captain: Aw, look sir, this is the cockpit.  
  
Darien: AW, your the biggest f**king cock on this flight I can tell that. Hobbesy, come and look at this dickhead in his little uniform.  
  
Captain: Sir.  
  
Darien: What does this button do?  
  
Captain: No don't touch that!  
  
Darien: Attention Hong Kong. This is flight F .*. *. K. Requesting permission to land right up Ginger Spices clacker.  
  
Captain: Sir you not actually permitted up here  
  
Darien: Why? Cause I'm too f**king special is that why? You can't f**king handle it, can ya?  
  
Captain: I'm gonna have to turn this flight around.  
  
Darien: OH! You've lost your bottle, haven't you? You can't handle it, can you?  
  
Captain: Go and get security.  
  
Darien: Cause I'm too f**king special.  
  
Captain: Security. Go and get security.  
  
Darien: Where's my f**king fruit platter?  
  
Captain: Your not supposed to be up here!  
  
Darien: Oh, oh. And I suppose radio-head that . . . that Album of the Year cause he didn't like Oasis's Wonderwall!  
  
Captain: Get security.  
  
Darien: Have you got any blow?  
  
Captain: I'm sorry sir your gonna have to return to your seat.  
  
Darien: I don't want to. First Class is crap, what have you got that's better? What's out here?  
  
Captain: NO! DON'T OPEN THAT!  
  
Opens the window.  
  
Darien: What the f**k is going on out here?  
  
Captain: Get security quick! Somebody send security up here to the Cockpit.  
  
Security Guy: What's going on?  
  
Captain: This man has caused . . . where is he?  
  
Darien: I'm out here on the wing and I want my f**king fruit platter!  
  
Captain: Come back in quickly.  
  
Darien: Not until I have three f**king Supermodles.  
  
Captain: We're gonna have to land.  
  
Darien: Hay look at this. I'm pissing into the wind. ::Singing druckendly:: So . . . nobody knows where I'm gonna be peeing.  
  
  
  
*The Test Cricketers got drunk on the plane and interfered with the pilot during the flight, causing him to land at some airport that the Author can't remember cause she doesn't like cricket. Anyway it caused Australia shame by the way it's sportsman behaved . . . and we still haven't let them live it down and that was in 1996 or whenever.  
  
  
  
Well, That's it. Last of the chapters. I had to give the CD's back to my friend (I'm forever greatful Greg, thanks!)  
  
If I ever do get them back I'll put fingers to keyboard and put another chapter up. (Just leave me your e-mail: I promise not to sand spam or viruses, okay?)  
  
Oh and keep an eye out for my NEW story coming up in the next few months, called Silver Shadows. Be sure to read it cause it features Carol's EL6 in it. (But it is funny in some chapters.)  
  
Please?  
  
R&R?  
  
I'll give you another Candy. 


End file.
